


First Name Basis

by fennecfawkes



Category: High School Musical (Movies)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Get Together, M/M, New Year's Eve, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 12:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17264543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fennecfawkes/pseuds/fennecfawkes
Summary: So Ryan cocks his head to the side and sips his amaretto sour and looks as interested as he can in Gabe-maybe-Gavin’s story about ... well, Ryan’s not sure. But he knows that if he looks into this boy’s eyes half a minute longer, he’ll have someone to kiss when midnight rolls around. Make that 15 seconds, actually, he thinks to himself as Gabe-maybe-Gavin inches a little closer. Maybe—“Yo, Evans!” Ryan hears over the droning music and Gabe-maybe-Gavin’s story, and there go Ryan’s plans for the first few minutes of the new year.





	First Name Basis

It’s just after 11 and Ryan’s feeling a bit stuck, crowded into a corner by one of Shar’s U of A friends. Gabe—maybe it’s Gabe, could be Gavin, hard to say, the music is playing at an earsplitting volume through the entire Evans home—is getting a touch too cozy for Ryan’s tastes, but the guy’s hot and Ryan’s yet to meet anyone worth more than an evening at Juilliard. One might think that three years in, there would have been an exception to the “good hookups make bad boyfriends” rule that seems to apply to all actors, but one would be wrong. Ryan’s had plenty of time to lament that, so he’s considering celebrating it for once. So he cocks his head to the side and sips his amaretto sour and looks as interested as he can in Gabe-maybe-Gavin’s story about ... well, Ryan’s not sure. But he knows that if he looks into this boy’s eyes half a minute longer, he’ll have someone to kiss when midnight rolls around. Make that 15 seconds, actually, he thinks to himself as Gabe-maybe-Gavin inches a little closer. Maybe—

“Yo, Evans!” Ryan hears over the droning music and Gabe-maybe-Gavin’s story, and there go Ryan’s plans for the first few minutes of the new year. He turns around and Chad Danforth—he of the killer smile and stupid hair and ludicrous physique (because who knew basketball could do _that_?)—is standing gloriously before him, grinning and holding a Corona.

“Hey, Danforth,” says Ryan, and he smiles back, because it’s hard not to. Danforth hasn’t gotten any less gorgeous since graduation, which Ryan already knew, given the number of summer barbecues and holiday parties he’s come back for. Still, it’s fun to be reminded. “When’d you get here?”

Chad rolls his eyes. “I was one of the first to arrive. Guess you’ve been a bit busy.” He nods meaningfully at Gabe-not-Gavin, whose eyes have narrowed considerably. Gabe-not-Gavin snakes his arm around Ryan’s waist, and Ryan doesn’t love it, but he does love the look on Chad’s face—barely concealed disappointment and dejection.

“Oh. Yeah. Guess so,” Ryan says nonchalantly, leaning against Gabe-not-Gavin slightly. “Chad, this is—“

“Graham.” Graham-not-Gabe-or-Gavin extends his free hand to Chad, who shakes it. “Ryan and I were just talking about the U of A production of _Pippin_ that wrapped last week. Are you in the theater, Chad?”

“No,” says Chad, looking only slightly horrified, and Ryan stifles a laugh. “I leave that to the experts. Like Ryan and his sister.”

“How do you two know each other, then?” Graham glances between Ryan and Chad. “Ryan, don’t tell me you and Sharpay were both subjected to public school.”

“Hey—“ Chad starts, and Ryan puts up a hand, attempting to silence him. Chad shuts his mouth, and Ryan says, “I wouldn’t call it subjected. East High gave me more than enough prep for Juilliard. Can you say the same of whatever private school your parents settled on?”

“That’s not very kind, Ryan,” Graham says lightly, but Ryan can tell he’s riled the guy up. “If you don’t take that back, I might be a little less interested in your mouth than I was before.” He reaches up to Ryan’s mouth, pushing his fingers against the lower lip. It’s a lot hotter than Ryan wants it to be, but it’s not enough to distract Ryan from Chad’s latest expression. Chad’s never had a poker face, and to call his interest thinly veiled would be an overstatement.

“I don’t think I will,” says Ryan, taking a step back from Graham. Graham drops his hand, affronted.

“Fine.” Graham turns on his heel. “Maybe I’ll find your sister instead,” he says over his shoulder, and Ryan rolls his eyes. Like he’s never heard that one before.

There’s a beat of silence, then Chad breaks it. “Was that my fault? Because I didn’t mean to, like, ruin your midnight plans or anything.”

“No, it was his,” says Ryan. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you go find someone to canoodle with?”

“I don’t think people say ‘canoodle’ anymore,” Chad says, smirking. “I don’t think people said it ever, actually. And no. I’m tragically single.” He clears his throat and adds, “Kinda surprised you are, too. That is, assuming you and Graham aren’t together.”

“Definitely not,” says Ryan. “Do you really think I’d date someone who didn’t know where I went to high school? Plus, I went to that production of _Pippin_. Guy can’t sing for shit.”

Chad laughs, and Ryan hates himself just a little for how much he loves hearing that sound again. He hasn’t had the chance to make Chad laugh in literally years now. Or see Chad take a sip of a drink, lips wrapped around a bottle in a way Chad may or may not know looks obscene. That’s almost as good as the laughter. Almost.

“Do you think we’ve waited long enough that Graham won’t be in the kitchen anymore?” Chad holds up his empty Corona bottle. “I could use another drink. But we could also stay here. This is a nice little corner you’ve found for yourself.”

“Well, it is my parents’ house,” Ryan says. They’re in the basement rec room, and there are plenty of people milling about, but not nearly as many as upstairs. “This isn’t even the choicest location I could show you.”

“Where’s that?”

“My room, easily,” says Ryan. “Video games, a massive TV, a mini fridge with better beer than that—” He nods at the Corona. “And better sound-proofing than anywhere else in the house. Well, other than the music room. But that should go without saying.”

“So let’s go there,” Chad says, and Ryan’s breath catches in his throat for a second till Chad adds, “Video games sound a hell of a lot more fun than being run into by drunk freshmen.”

“There aren’t that many freshmen here,” says Ryan, and Chad rolls his eyes.

“You know what I mean. Lead the way.”

The crowd gets increasingly dense as Ryan makes his way upstairs, Chad in tow. Midway through the all-too-crowded dining room, he reaches back for Chad’s hand, taking care not to interlace their fingers. Chad grips back, and Ryan tells himself that has nothing to do with hormones and everything to do with getting through the throng of party guests as quickly as possible. After ascending the second staircase, they reach Ryan’s room, and Ryan slips a key out of his pocket and unlocks the door.

“Smooth, Evans,” says Chad.

“The only person who gets to seduce anyone in here is me,” Ryan says without thinking, and the way Chad’s eyes widen is a sight to behold. Ryan pulls open the fridge and hands Chad a beer and the bottle opener magnet. “Dogfish Head. Delaware brewery. Your mind’s about to be blown.”

“Well, you’re about to get your ass kicked at Mario Kart,” says Chad. Then he takes a swig. “Oh. Damn.”

Ryan laughs and gets a beer of his own, then tosses Chad a controller. “You’ll never look at Corona the same way again.”

They’re midway through 32 races on random when Ryan’s phone alarm begins beeping insistently. “Five minutes till midnight,” he says, pausing the game. He’s not sure how they both ended up on his bed when there’s plenty of other available seating in here, but Chad looks so relaxed in the veritable nest of pillows he’s made himself, and Ryan’s allowed to sit on his own bed. It’s his, after all. Though it’s looking more like Chad’s by the second as Chad sinks lower, smiling sleepily, arms stretched outward now that he’s put the controller down.

“I like this,” Chad says, a bit quiet but somehow determined at the same time. He straightens up a bit and turns toward Ryan. “I like hanging out with you. I always have.”

“Always?” Ryan raises an eyebrow.

“Well. Since ... you know. Since we were all in this together, or whatever.” Ryan laughs, and Chad continues, “You were always my favorite of the new people I started seeing more. So ... honest. Confident. Cool.”

“I’m cool, huh?”

“Yes,” Chad says insistently, and he scoots over on Ryan’s bed till their knees are touching. Chad reaches for Ryan’s shoulder and pushes at it till they’re fully facing each other. He breathes out heavily.

“I really, really, really didn’t want you to spend your midnight with Greg,” he says.

Ryan laughs—softly, gently, because there’s no way in hell he’s ruining this for himself by laughing too loudly at Chad. He could, for sure. He’s nervous enough. But he’ll do his best, because, well, _damn_. “Graham, I think. Though I couldn’t remember if it was Gabe or Gavin or neither till he introduced himself to you.”

“Graham. OK.” Chad licks his lips and his face is so close to Ryan’s now. Ryan has no earthly idea when that happened. “I was looking for you, you know. Like, the whole night. Because there’s some stuff I regret from high school, and I need to fix it. If you want me to. Of course. You have to want me to.”

“Some stuff you need to fix, huh?” Ryan whispers, not because whispering is sexy (though he supposes it can be), but because he’s not sure how much louder he can say this sort of thing. “Stuff like what?”

Ryan’s alarm beeps again.

“Tell me this is OK,” Chad whispers back, and Ryan can nearly feel Chad’s words against his lips.

“You know it is,” Ryan says, and Chad kisses him.

Chad being Chad, it’s nothing like any kiss Ryan’s had before. Chad’s hands grip Ryan’s shoulders before moving to Ryan’s back, still holding just as tight, and his mouth is insistent against Ryan’s, the pressure so sweet Ryan could cry. Instead, he nips at Chad’s lower lip, and Chad _moans_ , and Ryan wonders idly if he’d die from embarrassment if he went off right now, because how long has he wanted to hear that kind of noise from Chad Danforth? It takes only seconds longer for Chad to straddle Ryan’s lap, then he’s gently pushing Ryan’s shoulders till Ryan’s horizontal beneath him and they’re still kissing, Chad’s tongue in Ryan’s mouth, and Ryan can hear himself whimpering but he also can’t stop, so Chad’s just going to have to deal with that. And Chad seems to be dealing just fine; he’s eased himself upward just enough to unbutton the topmost two buttons of Ryan’s shirt and bite Ryan’s collarbone.

“How do you know what I like?” Ryan murmurs against Chad’s jaw, which he’d begun grazing with his teeth.

“Same way you know what I like,” says Chad, and Ryan can hear him smiling. “Face it, Evans. This has been a long time coming.”

Ryan doesn’t make the obvious joke, but he does slow things down a bit, kissing Chad softer, less urgently. Chad takes the hint and moves off Ryan, and for a moment, Ryan hates himself for being cautious, but he knows they’ll both be grateful for it later.

“We...” he starts, then stops, and Chad smiles.

“Me too,” says Chad. “My mind’s like—it’s shorting out. Like I can’t believe that finally happened.”

“Finally?”

“Oh, come on, you had to know how I felt after the baseball game,” Chad says, and Ryan groans.

“That was _ages_ ago, Danforth,” he says. “Are you telling me we could’ve been making out since the summer before senior year?”

Chad frowns. “When you put it that way, I’m a lot more disappointed in myself. Both of us, actually.”

“Well, we’re here now,” says Ryan. “And I’m not going to be much longer. That was hot as hell, and it can stay what it was if you want.”

“What it was meaning a single hot-as-hell makeout session?” Chad scoffs. “No. No way. No fucking way, Ryan. I want that to happen again. Preferably in the next few minutes.”

“That’s not really what I’m getting at,” says Ryan. “I mean next semester. I mean next summer. Full disclosure: I like you, and I have for a while, and I’d be interested in this—” He gestures at himself, then at Chad, then back again. “In the long term. Like. Boyfriends.” Ryan looks down at the bed and wonders how long he and Chad have been holding each other’s hands. “But I can learn to understand if you don’t want that.”

“Why wouldn’t I want that?” Chad asks. “I just said something about ‘how I felt,’ like, a second ago. I feel—this. You and me, being a thing. I’m in if you’re in.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Chad doesn’t let go of Ryan’s hands as he leans forward and brushes his lips against Ryan’s. “And I want everyone to know. Facebook official, all over each other’s Instagrams, all that relationship bullshit I’ve been mocking Troy about for years. I want that for you and me. Are you on board?”

“So much so,” says Ryan. “Chad. We should probably go first names, right?”

“Maybe sometimes,” Chad says, kissing Ryan again. He rises to his feet and pulls Ryan along with him. “Now, come on, Ryan. It’s after midnight, they’re done cheering and singing, and your sister, at least, is gonna start wondering where you are soon.”

Ryan allows himself to be pulled along and says, smiling broadly at Chad, “Happy New Year to me, I guess.”

“Shut up, Evans,” says Chad, winking, and how is that hot? “Don’t make me take away your first name privileges.”

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't dipped a toe in Chad/Ryan writing for years, but I've always loved these boys and revisiting them was such a fun ride.


End file.
